


A Little Fence of Trust

by within_a_dream



Category: Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a delicate dance, figuring out what exactly lies between them</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Fence of Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



Minou hadn’t expected her relationship with her lover’s wife to extend much past their release from the circumstances which had forced them together. It was a relief to find out that Chloë wasn’t a jealous harpy, and that rumors of her fangs had been greatly exaggerated, but Minou had never expected anything more than a tacit agreement from each of them to ignore the other’s claim on Henri.

She certainly wasn’t expecting Chloë to turn up on her doorstep a few weeks after the wedding, a plate of shortbread in tow.

“Oh, Chloë, dear! Have a seat?”

Chloë set her offering on the parlor table. “I hope I haven’t bothered you; Henri told me you’d be in, and I thought we might get to know each other.”

They sat in silence after that, neither quite sure where to go from here. Then a cry from the bedroom startled them, and Minou stood up.

“I’ll have to fetch her. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Chloë said.

Minou returned with her daughter in tow, trying her best to soothe her cries. “This is Charmian. She’s been rather irritable lately. Haven’t you, dear?”

Chloë smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s much less endearing when you’ve been waking up to comfort her every hour,” Minou said, laughing.

“I can hold her, if you’d like.”

Minou kissed Charmian’s forehead, then handed her off to Chloë. “Oh, she likes you! This is the quietest she’s been in days.”

Chloë talked to Charmian, her voice light, and Minou found herself watching the two of them with a mix of happiness and concern. It would be so easy for Chloë to tire of them, to decide that she didn’t want Henri associating with his colored mistress.

Chloë seemed nervous as well, sneaking glances at Minou only to look back down at Charmian when their eyes met. Occasionally she’d hold Dominique’s glance, opening her mouth as if to say something only to turn away again.

After a few false starts, she seemed to work up the nerve to ask her question. “Is something the matter?”

Dominique smiled at the way Charmian grabbed for Chloë’s spectacles, and wished she could trust Chloë as easily as her daughter seemed to. “Most women wouldn’t want to spend their afternoons with their husband’s plaçée.”

“I’m just pleased that he’s found you.” Chloë brushed Charmian’s hand away from her eyes, offering her a finger instead. “I need those to see you, darling. I did worry, you know,” she said, turning back to Minou, “about marrying. I…I’ve never had the interest in men that one is supposed to.”

She said it with a tone of confession, as if she were offering up this knowledge to Dominique as a payment. And just like that, things began to fall into place.

“Henri’s a sweetheart,” Minou said, imagining what might have happened to this small, strange girl had she been married off to any of the host of crueler men in New Orleans. “I’m so pleased that you’ve found each other.”

Chloë smiled. “You’ve both been very kind.”

Minou laughed a bit at that; rare was the wife who would call her husband’s plaçée kind. “You’re welcome to visit whenever you’d like. My daughter and I would both love to have you.”

Chloe looked down at Charmian, and her smile grew wider. “I think she’s asleep,” she whispered.

“I can put her to bed.” Minou picked her up, soothing her as she began to fuss.

“I ought to go home.” Chloë stood up, smoothing her dress. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

 

When Henri next came Minou made sure to suggest that Chloë visit on a day that Olympe would be watching Charmian, under the pretense of returning her plate. He agreed to pass the date on to his wife, pleased (if a bit befuddled) that the two of them got on so well. Truthfully, Dominique was still in awe herself at how well things had worked out (as, she expected, was Chloë). One part of her felt that hoping for more would be tempting fate; another couldn’t help that hope. Surely Chloë’s glances had held more than friendship; Minou prided herself on her ability to read people, and her own emotions had never affected her conclusions before.

When she knocked at the door, Chloë’s tentative smile held none of the longing Minou had thought she’d seen at their last meeting. They went through the same dance of strained small talk, Minou asking after Henri and Chloë after Charmian.

“My sister has agreed to take her for the evening,” Minou said. “I love my daughter dearly, but you have no idea how much I’ve been longing for adult contact.”

“I can imagine.” Chloë perched at the edge of the parlor chair, looking ready to flee, and something familiar flashed in her eyes.

Minou sucked in a breath, and said, “You mentioned during our last meeting that you’ve never had much interest in men. Have you taken an interest in women?”

The parlor descended into silence, and Dominique prayed that she hadn’t overstepped. Chloë’s face grew beet red, and, biting at her lip, she nodded.

Minou took her hand. “It’s not so uncommon, p’tit. Frowned upon in some circles, perhaps, but I certainly wouldn’t judge you.”

Without warning, Chloë leaned forward and kissed her. Minou returned the kiss, running her fingers through Chloë’s hair and smiling in satisfaction at the way things had worked out. She’d barely dared hope that Chloë would be receptive to her advances, and as it had turned out, Dominique hadn’t even needed to take action first.

After a few blissful moments, Chloë pulled away, face even redder than before. “I’m sorry…I’ve never…”

Minou cut her off, putting her out of her misery. “That was lovely. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you felt moved to kiss me again.”

A grin spread across Chloe’s face. “In that case, I might have to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a poem by Mary Frances Butts (published several decades after the series takes place, but I hope you'll forgive me the anachronistic title).
> 
> Many thanks to Brigdh for the beta!


End file.
